


Tug o' War

by voxmyriad



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: And then I didn't edit it, Fluff and Crack, Gen, I like to live dangerously, I wrote this in the hot sun, Multiclass, Red and Blu, Tug of war
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-13
Updated: 2014-10-13
Packaged: 2018-02-21 02:03:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2450555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/voxmyriad/pseuds/voxmyriad
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are all kinds of wars to be fought</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tug o' War

**Author's Note:**

> So every year at Milwaukee Irish Fest I watch the professional tug-of-war competition. This year at Irish Fest I watched the tug-of-war and ended up writing a fic about it, and promptly got home and forgot about it, so here it is. Unbeta'd and probably there are errors in technique and such, but here, have some mercenaries playing srs bzns tug-of-war in the desert.
> 
> And yes, there really is a tug-of-war international federation with yearly world championships, both indoor and outdoor, how great is that?

"All right, lads, line up like I told ye!"

"You cannot be serious," Medic said yet again as both REDs and BLUs approached the thick rope lying innocuously on the ground.

"This ain't a real sport," Sniper said as he looked dubiously at the rope.

"Thought so at first too, but it sure seems legit," Engie said, taking up a spot behind Scout, the second position in. "There's an international league and all."

"But it's bollocks! Tug-of-war? We were fighting a real war yesterday!"

"Aye, and today we're fightin' a real war of a different sort! C'mon now, lads, take it up. Lean it back." The rope was brought taught, REDs and BLUs eyeing each other, silently wondering if they were really doing this. "Right, well done. An' lock in yer boot, like so." Using the rope, he leaned back at least 45 degrees and planted his left boot heel in the soft dirt, grinning delightedly at the BLUs also being coached by their Demoman as to proper tug-of-war posture. "Great, good form! Too bad there's no way of bringin' in a few explosions, but it'll be grand all the same, c'mon! Let's show them BLUs what for!"

Unsurprisingly, the Soldiers on both sides had jogged to the rope immediately and had already been testing each other's strength. Begrudgingly, slowly, with no small amount of complaining, the rest of the REDs followed suit. There were seven pullers to a side, according to the official rules, so the RED Pyro and the BLU Engineer had volunteered to stand aside for the first round. Both Spies had opted out immediately and were now leaning against the wall a professional distance apart from each other but close enough to trade scathing remarks about this newest team-building exercise.

The RED and BLU teams were evenly matched physically—identically matched, in fact, with the exception of Pyro and Engie—with the Heavies unanimously voted to be the anchor on either end. The leather vests they wore to protect themselves against the bite of the rope looked comically small, but the Demomen had insisted they were necessary, and when that hadn't worked, that they were traditional. They stolidly wrapped the rough rope around their chests as they'd been shown and hunkered down. They each looked like they couldn't be budged, even by every man from both teams pulling at once.

"This is ridiculous. What is this meant to accomplish?" the RED Spy asked apparently the air and in no way his counterpart.

"I cannot imagine how our Demoman talked our bosses into this exercise in futility," BLU answered, still carefully not looking over. "Our Heavy is immovable." He glanced at RED's Heavy, crouched with an ironclad expression of determination. "Perhaps both of them are. We should all stand back and watch just the two of them, hein?"

He was rewarded with a grin around RED's cigarette.

"C'mon, let's go let's go!" RED's Scout shouted from his place at the front of the line. Strength had less to do with the lineup than height and weight, therefore the BLU Scout was grimacing at him from across the center line, marked out with tape.

"Right, lads! Nice 'n tight now!" BLU's Demo shouted, and both sides leaned back and put enough tension on the line that it creaked.

"Somebody gonna yell 'go' or what?" RED's Scout yelled again. BLU sighed and pushed off the wall to walk to the center line. With a disinterested shrug, he pulled out a handkerchief and waved it. Immediately, both sides started pulling and straining, groaning, sliding forward, digging their heels in and yanking back. It was disastrously uncoordinated, but it was disastrously uncoordinated on both sides and therefore neither side got the upper hand for nearly sixty seconds.

Despite themselves, both Spies were fascinated, leaning forward, cigarettes forgotten in the mesmerizing spectacle of this supreme effort. "Come on," RED whispered, and BLU murmured something in French, and then they were both running down the line of their respective teammates, shouting insults and encouragement in both French and English. The turning point came when the BLU Engineer's boot found a rock in the dirt and he redoubled his efforts. It took almost three full minutes of tugging, but finally BLU dragged the center mark on the rope across their line. Everyone jumped when the buzzer sounded.

"Is this _official_?" BLU's Medic asked.

"Seems like it," RED's Sniper said. "Guess Demo was right, really is fighting the war a different way." The realization electrified both sides; this was no game, this was their job.

Both Demomen were clapping their teammates on the back, congratulating them on a victory or encouraging them toward a victory next time. "Now then, switch sides! Spy! Tag in!"

Before, they would have categorically refused. A part of them still wanted to, but they looked at each other, sizing the other up. "Sniper," RED said, just as BLU said, "Medic." They tagged in, and BLU's Engie and RED's Pyro joined Sniper and Medic on the sidelines to keep the numbers even.

The next round was punctuated by guttural German swearing and colorful Australian euphemisms, with Engie's attempts at encouragement drowned out by Pyro's excited unintelligible shouting. RED won that round, but only just. As it turned out, there _was_ strategy involved in tug-of-war, strategy that involved each team member knowing just what their role was on the line, when to relax and when to tighten, when to plant their boots and when to start heaving backward. The Heavies made formidable anchors but they could be budged, with the right strategy.

After a tie-breaker round that BLU won, they took a break. The Medics broke out their mediguns and healed up raw rope-burned hands, pulled muscles, and one nasty scrape along RED Scout's leg when he'd been dragged across the line along with the rope.

It wasn't really discussed, but after a decent interval, everyone drifted back to the rope. They weren't having _fun,_ of course. Just doing their jobs.


End file.
